


The Ugly Truth

by Milli



Series: Not defeated [3]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Attempted Rape, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:30:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milli/pseuds/Milli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Multi-chapter sequel to Broken and Misconceptions.</p><p>Loki lets The Avengers know just what's coming for them and their world. Forced to work together, can they learn to trust him and he them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how long this fill with get, but I have plotted out a fair chunk of the story already.
> 
> To get things started, Loki needs to make the Avengers listen

The atmosphere in Stark’s bar is taught, tension tighter than Hawkeye’s bowstring. Speaking of the archer, Loki can feel the man’s heated gaze burning into his back. If it wasn’t for Thor’s often misguided loyalty, he would worry about that. Having an enemy stood, armed, somewhere behind him. His former sibling has always been good with the visible, obvious threats however, so for now he chooses to believe that Thor will protect him.

Not that his protection means much. Not if – when – the Chitauri catch up with him. He can feel that giddy laughter building up again. He recognises it now as panic, but he can’t give in to it. He must stay in control, must make these heroes understand. Yes, heroes. That is what the world needs.

But he has never been a hero, even when he tried. That was always Thor’s job in Asgard, and he has seen for himself how effective the Midgardian versions are. He was never meant to be a hero, and yet here he is. A voice whispers in his mind ‘you are nothing.’ He ignores it, as best he can. 

He turns to Thor. What feels a lifetime ago, when he was dragged back to Asgard in chains it had always been his plan to speak to Thor. It was a good plan and he implemented it now. The others gathered around him had no reason to listen to him, to trust him. Thor didn’t either, not really, but they had a shared history. And Thor still clung to the fiction that they were brothers. He could use that, he would.

‘Brother…’

He hates for a second the bright note of hope when Thor responds. ‘Loki?’

‘They are coming, and there are so many. More than this world can manage on its own. You must raise the armies of Asgard.’

‘WHO are coming? Your Chitauri friends?’

Loki bites back a bitter laugh. There is no time for this now.

‘Oh yes. Truly my FRIENDS. Is this how you treat your friends Fury? If so I pity your enemies.’

He gestures at himself, still clothed only in a stolen, tattered robe and nothing else. His energy has been spent getting here, with nothing to spare for healing. He knows that he is bruised and battered, and that his current state is nothing he can hide from them. Which could be a weakness; it’s certainly something he hates. But he has learnt to turn every weakness to strength. Now, if it is something he can’t hide it is also something they can’t deny or ignore.

It was no friend, no ally that left him in such a state.

‘If they aren’t your friends, why did they rescue you?’

‘They didn’t.’

‘They didn’t? Loki, I saw them!’

‘Yes brother. Well done. I didn’t say they didn’t come to Asgard and take me from my cell. I said they didn’t rescue me.’

Loki closed his eyes, frustrated. He didn’t need them to trust him, or to like him. Only to believe him. How could he make them understand? Biting his lip, he shivered and pulled the loathsome robe around him. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again and turned to Fury.

‘They gave me an army, in exchange for the tesseract. That was the deal. Now, I’m sure you remember how that all worked out.’

‘You failed.’

‘Yes. I failed.’ His voice is quiet and cold, calm and controlled now. ‘They do not reward failure, but it is not their place to punish a god.’

‘So… What? You’re here now to help us out as revenge? Some kind of petty pay back?’

Loki lets the lie slip from his lips with a smile. ‘Oh, yes. And I can tell you everything. How many they are, when and how they are coming.’

‘And we should just trust you?’

‘Oh, I don’t know that you SHOULD. But you can, for now.’

‘For now.’

He can feel all of their eyes upon him. They are teetering, on the brink of realising just what he has to offer. It is almost, but not quite enough. For all that their life spans are short; these mortals have learned to think about something more long term than each immediate moment. He has given them motives they can believe, but not anything that they can trust. He sighs again.

‘Fine. Stick me in a prison, if you think you can keep me there. I’d rather face your idea of justice than theirs.’

‘You’ll come quietly? As our prisoner?’

He closes his eyes. ‘Yes. On one condition.’

The captain exchanges a hopeful glance with Thor, whilst Fury narrows his eye once more. Stark is mixing himself another drink, face unreadable. Natasha is sat near Hawkeye, keeping an eye on her friend as well as their soon to be prisoner. It is Banner, the quiet doctor who asks.

‘What condition?’

‘A bath and something to wear.’

Fury nods, slowly.

‘It’s a deal Loki. You come with us and we stick you in another nice cage where we can keep an eye on you. You’ll get your bath and some clean clothes, but then you tell us everything.’

The unspoken threat, of violence and pain if he lies to them doesn’t scare Loki. The only lies he has told today were the ones designed to make them listen. Besides, for all their imagination, he does not think these heroes – even the practical, pragmatic SHIELD director – would have it in them to treat him as the Chitauri had. 

He lets them take him away, following Fury as the others surround him. Careful to avoid their touch and they are careful not to touch him, his earlier threat not forgotten. An old fashioned tin bath full of steaming hot water is carried into the cell they have prepared. One built for him this time, not another. It is much like the last, and thought he cannot help a nervous swallow at the thought of entering captivity once more, he is thankful that it is all light and open.

Though, as he watches them close and lock the door behind him he realises that there is nowhere to hide here. He has his bath, and some loose, cotton garments to wear after it. But he has been given no privacy, or even the illusion of it. Turning his back, he slides the robe off his body and climbs into the tub. He is too long for it and must bend his limbs awkwardly to fit, but the warmth slowly seeps into this limbs and he could cry with relief.

When he risks a glance over his shoulder, the room around his cell has been abandoned. He knows that there will be cameras watching, but he appreciates the gesture. He pours water over his head, soaking his hair and letting it run down his face. He tells himself that it is only water and not tears which dampens his cheeks.

Afterwards, he curls up in his new, clean clothing, sitting on the floor far from the filthy tub of water. It is Thor who comes to take it away, who has no doubt argued and pleaded for the right to be allowed in the room with his brother. Loki can’t bring himself to look up and meet his eyes, not right now. He is too tired. Instead he simply asks if they are going to question him now, his voice soft and worn.

Thor stares at him, his eyes brimming with tears of sorrow.

‘Brother? What…What did they do to you?’

‘What matters Thor is what they will do when they get here. Try not to lose your focus.’

He ignores whatever Thor says next, any attempts to talk to him. Finally, the thunder god turns away. Loki rests his head against the cool glass like wall, closing his eyes as he listens to the scraping and sloshing sounds of Thor removing his bath. Sometime later he opens his eyes. All of the Avengers are gathered on the other side of the glass. It is time.


	2. Chapter 2

He expects an interrogation. Something with a show of aggression, the threat of violence. He is tensed and ready, so when there is nothing but simple questions and a mostly patient wait for answers he isn’t sure how to react. To start with its Fury asking, and the conversation – if such it could be called – is restricted to the two of them. That doesn’t last long; everyone has their own specific view, their own perspective to share.

‘So, can you give us something more specific in terms of numbers? More than you can count doesn’t actually tell me a lot.’

Loki shrugs. ‘They have millions, but they won’t be able to bring them all. The talk was of thousands.’

‘How many thousands Loki?’

‘To start with? Seven, eight?’

He can see them thinking about it. The handful they fought in Manhattan, the amount of damage they did. There weren’t even hundreds then, and now they face thousands. At the very least.’

Banner is the first to cut in, and that surprises him. The scientist spends so much time quietly fighting his anger in a corner than Loki has rarely heard him speak. 

‘Why aren’t they bringing them all?’

Loki blinks at him, and then shrugs. ‘Magic is a wonderful thing Dr, but it has limits. Without the tesseract, they cannot hope to open portals enough to transport so many.’

‘So how will they get here?’ Fury again.

‘There are many more sources of power than the tesseract alone. Not as powerful, and their power is a finite source. Nevertheless… Thanos will provide them with a way.’

Cap frowns. ‘Who’s Thanos?’

‘Pray that you never find out.’

‘You’ve made it pretty clear we’re going to.’

‘No. Not if we can stop his army, stop HIM before he ever gets here.’

‘We?’

Loki drops his gaze to the floor. ‘Fine then, you.’

Though he has no intention of being left out of the fight. This is war as much as it is theirs. Maybe even more so. They, Thanos and his army only seek to wipe out. Him they sought to destroy.

Loki tires quickly. He is stronger now, so much stronger than he was when he was trapped, chained up and starving like an unwanted dog. He is far from recovered however. He aches, all the way down to his bones. He answers a few more questions, trying and failing to fight back his yawns. Still the questions come and there is no end in sight. He needs to sleep, to lie down and rest. There is a padded bench in the cell, not the bed he longs for but so much better than the floor. That cold, black, shining floor.

He shudders, and tries to pay attention. Can’t they see that he is dead on his feet? Not that they care, not that he has ever given them any reason too. Yet he is shaking now, his limbs trembling with fatigue and surely they have noticed. Surely THOR, who has always claimed to know him so well, can see how he is struggling. What does he have to do to get them to leave him alone and sleep? They have enough now to start planning, and he isn’t going anywhere. Not anytime soon. 

The answer comes to him in a sibilant whisper which he knows he alone can hear. ‘Beg.’

He has done it once, more than once. So often it has become habit. Exhausted as he is, head spinning and his usually graceful body made clumsy by months without any true rest, he lets habit take over. His eyes flicker shut, so that he does not to have to gaze at his own reflection. 

‘Please, please I need to sleep.’

Thor steps forward up to the glass. He can see his brother shaking, shivering. His cheeks are flushed, and when he opens his eyes they are fever bright. He saw the state brother was in, why did he not think to request that they check him over? It is clear to him that his brother is more than tired, he is unwell. Beside him, Banner seems to spot the same thing and curses softly.

Fury is not so sympathetic.

‘You can sleep when we’re done here. You’ll have plenty of time to rest then.’

Loki’s voice is barely more than a whisper, a single word repeated over and over. ‘Please, please, please.’

In all their years Thor has never seen him reduced to begging, not for anything. He ignores Hawkeye’s snicker, even Banner’s look of concern.

‘He is not well. Please, let him rest.’

‘If he sickens further, he might not be able to answer our questions.’ Banner’s voice is one of soft reason.

Frowning, Fury accedes to their request. He calls for someone to bring blankets. If their guest is truly ill and not just faking, getting him well again – if only to the point of answering their questions – is in their best interests. He wishes they had some way to verify what Loki had already given them, but as yet they had no other source of intel.

Frustrated, he walked away, closely followed by everyone but Thor, Banner and Stark. Banner stayed to make sure that Loki was properly set up for the night. He directed the staff who soon arrived to make up a bed, complete with pillows, and to leave a bottle of water and a wide variety of snacks. Thor kept careful supervision over his brother, who seemed to have dozed off where he was, slumped against the floor.

Stark only watched his expression thoughtful. Once the chaos god was carefully tucked up and locked away he sighed.

‘I wonder if I looked like that post torture.’

‘You think they tortured him?’

‘No Thor, I think they gave him tea and kittens. Of course they tortured him!’ 

His words might have been unduly harsh, but the warm hand that rested on Thor’s shoulder was full of wordless sympathy. After a moment, Tony removed it and headed to the door.

‘C’mon Bruce, I’m sure Thor is capable of looking after one little super-villain all by himself.’


	3. Chapter 3

For a while, Thor simply watches his brother sleep. He wants to go to him, to comfort him, like he would have done when they were still children. Love alone is not enough to make him forget just why Loki is locked up like this however. In the end, he turns and walks away. He doesn’t doubt that there will be watchful eyes kept on his brother, and that as soon as he wakens once more they will all be notified. For now, he must rest himself.

He doesn’t head to bed however, but to Jane’s lab. If she is awake still then that’s where she will be, and tonight he cannot face the thought of an empty bed.

Thor spends a pleasant evening in the company of his lady, but Loki spends his alone. He finds it less restful than he had hoped. He expends too much energy kicking covers off when he grows so warm he thinks he must be on fire, then groping for them again. When he has them, he burrows down amongst them, his hands fisted in the material pulling it around him.

Clothing and blankets are luxuries he has not had in so long, months if Thor is to be believed. It is nice to be reminded that he is in a different place, even if he is still a captive. Even if the lights are so bright that they burn his eyes. Yet still he can’t sleep.

When it grows too quiet he wakes, eyes darting round him looking for someone. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what is going on. Whatever else he might be, Loki is no fool. After so long in the dark, he does not like lack of company. At least, when his captor is present, something is happening. The reality is rarely worse than the nightmares he concocts whilst waiting for someone to come. Now, left alone, he can feel the anxiety thrum through every cell of his being. When it comes back, what will it want?

He blinks in confusion, eyes stinging and throat sore, despite the water he has guzzled down. He remembers his hands around it, crushing it’s scrawny neck. But he can also remember his mouth on it, sucking, licking and kissing. Despite the searing brightness of electric lights, in his fevered, exhausted state he can’t quite remember which is true, or when they happened. 

The next time he wakes it is with a full bladder. He doesn’t want to beg, not again. Not anymore. When he looks around, there is no end around to ask for assistance. No one thought to provide him with any facilities for such an eventually. He wishes now that he had thought to ask. It seems like an age since he was last forced to wet himself, but as his fever heightens, so too does his confusion. He cannot figure out what he should do, so in the end he just lets go and goes back to sleep.

When morning finally arrives, he finds himself being jostled awake. He flinches, jerking away from the hands that touch him with a whimper.

‘Loki! You need to wake up.’

He resists, pulling away. When that doesn’t work he strikes out blindly, connecting with something. Then there is a voice cursing.

‘Fuck! Fury, I can’t look after him here. Not like this.’

‘We aren’t letting him out.’

Those aren’t Chitauri voices. He opens his eyes, slowly, and peeks out of the cocoon he has made for himself. Awareness comes back to him slowly. He remembers his escape with a certain savage pride, but the damp stinking sheets he has wrapped round himself are quick to take it away. His cheeks burn, partly with fever and partly with shame. 

It shouldn’t matter what these people think of him. It shouldn’t but it does. He listens to Thor, Banner and Fury argue back and forth for a while. So, he is sick. It shouldn’t surprise him really. He has lived in the cold and dark, without so much as a blanket to cover himself with. He has been starved and beaten and raped. He has expended more energy than he had to spare, just to get here. It is no wonder then, and it comforts him somehow. 

If he is sick, he will get better. 

He wants to talk to Fury, to answer the man’s questions. They can fix him later. Right now, there are preparations that need to be made. He tries to speak up, to say that but as soon as he opens his mouth he starts coughing. It hurts, his lungs ache. He must make a pathetic, sorry sight. When Fury looks at him with pity in his eyes and relents, he knows that he does.

‘Fine. Take him to your lab. But I want a guard on him at all times, and as soon as he’s well enough to talk he’s back in here.’

His first guard is Hawkeye. He is there even when Banner is not. When Thor is with his mortal love, when Banner and Stark lock themselves away with their computers and hushed voices, still Hawkeye stays with him. Barton, he remembers. He knows why this man hates him, he wishes he could tell him that, but sickness has robbed him of his voice.

And he’s not sure his understanding would matter. He can’t apologise and be certain that he means it. He can’t swear that he wouldn’t do the exact same thing again. He knows what it is like to have something else in your head, but he has often done things to others he would find unpleasant himself. 

The next time he needs the bathroom, he tries to tell the archer. The man refuses to meet his gaze and pretends not to understand what Loki is asking for. He watches the god piss his pants like a child and his mouth twitches in a bitter smile. Loki wants to hate him, but he doesn’t have the energy right now. Later. Later, when he is well he will make him pay for that.

Then the archer is lifting him, and his grip is firm but surprisingly gentle. He helps Loki to the bathroom, brings him clean clothing, a washcloth and towels. When Loki only stares at him in confusion, he makes an exasperated sound. Then his hands, rougher this time but not as rough as Loki expected, are pulling Loki’s clothing from him. The cloth is dampened and handed to him, and afterwards Barton pats him dry and helps him dress once more.

‘Next time, ask.’

He wants to say that he tried. That he hates this, having no voice, more than anything else in the world. That Barton hadn’t wanted to hear him. He wants to ask why the man let him embarrass himself like that, only to help him afterwards. He suspects it is because he lies to himself –that he believes it when he claims Loki didn’t ask. That he thinks he helped because he is the better man. This is easier and safer than recognising the truth, that Loki is his enemy and it pleased him to cause him a small degree of suffering.

He sleeps, and when he wakes again Barton is gone. Banner is there, sticking a thermometer in his ear. Asking him if he needs anything. Stark stands in the doorway, the bracelets that will let his suit find him secure on his wrist. He has a new guard then. On some level he is grateful. Stark has always amused him, even when he is being infuriating. When Banner tries to feed him some soup, he pushes him away.

He will not be fed, the price is too high.


	4. Chapter 4

The next two days are frustrating for everyone. Under Banner's watchful eye, Loki gains strength once more. When he speaks it hurts his throat and his voice is little more than a rough whisper, but it is a voice and that is enough. Progress stalls from there however. He will not – cannot – bring himself to accept the food they bring. 

Thor tries to coax him with a variety of sweet smelling delights, but the scent of them only turns his stomach. Next they try words, explaining how he will recover so much faster if he will only eat. Finally, Banner tries to slide a tube down the back of his throat, but Loki will not be forced to accept their sustenance. In the end, the doctor backs off before Thor steps in to make him stop. 

Loki's stomach cramps, clenching around the emptiness within him. His limbs grow heavy and weak once more and he can feel his hard won weight falling from him again. He needs food, and he knows eventually he will give in. He must. He tries, though no one seems to see it, but he can not do it. 

Stark only watches him, but doesn't say a word. He prefers his new watcher. He and Tony have traded words and tried to kill each other, but they are almost civil now. There is none of the underlying hatred and antagonism of Hawkeye. He finds himself oddly grateful that Stark was immune to the hypnotic sway of the sceptre he once bore. 

Whilst he dozes, on and off, Stark works with Banner on some secret project. Once, when Loki wakes he is talking with Fury, softly, but Loki has always had good hearing. 

'Banner says he's probably well enough to be questioned now.'

'I sense a but coming Tony.'

'That's because there is one. We need to be careful how we do this. Well enough does not mean fixed.'

Fury nods, once. 'Understood. See what you can get out of him and report to me later. Natasha will take over guard duty tonight.'

'Not Clint?'

'No, not Clint. He has requested not to be left on guard duty.'

'Yeah? Well, so did I. How come he gets listened to and I don't?'

'Because you cited boredom as a reason. Clint's was better.'

Fury leaves and Loki drifts back into sleep. He wonders what excuses the archer made, and why. Is it Loki he can't stand to be around, or himself when he is around Loki? 

When he awakens next, Tony is talking to an attractive blonde. Her golden hair reminds him of Sif, when they were much younger. She's shoving papers in Stark's face, voice and face both stern, though her eyes twinkle with humour. She catches sight of him watching and watches him back, her expression thoughtful. When she leaves, Tony comes to sit by him. Ah, now the questioning will begin.

Tony is direct and to the point, which Loki finds he appreciates more than he expected.

'So. Talk to me of magical power sources.'

They talk, and it is almost pleasant. The man's questions are intelligent, more insightful than Loki had imagined from a mere mortal. They talk until his throat goes hoarse, until it hurts to speak. He needs a break, but asking for one... He's not sure it's allowed, and he can hear, again, the demands that he beg. 

Something must show in his eyes because Tony has stopped mid sentence and is just looking at him.

'You OK?'

The question startles Loki and he doesn't quite know how to respond, so he just nods.

'Here's an idea, why don't I get Pepper to bring us up some food. You sound like you could do with a rest and I'm hungry.'

Loki can't help but flinch at the thought of food, but he doesn't say no. Stark grabs his phone, speaking into it quickly. A short time later Pepper – the blonde from earlier – arrives, bearing a tray. There's a covered dish, some cutlery, a single apple, two glasses and bottle of whisky. Of course, Stark likes to drink.

Tony takes the dish gratefully, slinging it down on the table and grabbing a knife and fork. Loki swallows nervously. He doesn't want to remember the Chitauri sitting beside him, holding stringy meat in it's fingers for him to take. He doesn't want to, but he can't forget. He waits for them to demand something from him, but neither of them do. Tony tucks into his meal with relish, and Pepper simply lays down the apple on the end of the bed as she leaves.

It is within easy reach, and his stomach clenches in need. But no one is offering it to him, or demanding that he eat it. Stark is all but ignoring him. Hesitantly, he slides his hand down to take it, waiting with baited breath for something to happen. Tony just keeps eating, not even looking at him. Slowly, Loki lifts it to his mouth and takes a careful bite. Stark glances at briefly but makes no comment. He only reaches for the bottle of whisky, pouring them each a healthy sized measure.

He waits until Loki has finished his apple before offering a glass and Loki takes it carefully, suspiciously. What does this mortal want from him? He is already answering their questions. Hasn't he already proved that he will, by coming here and handing himself over like this? He shudders to think what else the man might want.

The whisky burns his throat as he swallows it. It is an interesting sensation. The warmth that floods his belly afterwards is all but divine. He wants, desperately, to take another sip. Perhaps, if he is intoxicated enough, the price of all this will not seem so harsh. When he tips the glass up again and takes a large swallow Stark frowns.

'Careful, Loki. This is a drink to be savoured, slowly. Especially on an empty stomach.'

Loki doesn't dare point out that his stomach is no longer empty. The single apple sits heavily within him now. But he listens to what the man has to say anyway, lowering the glass and trying to stop his hands from trembling.

'So, these crystals you were on about. They basically sound like batteries.'

'Yes. Much the same. They... contain the energy, until someone provides an outlet. A focus, if you will, for it to escape.'

'Right, like completing a circuit. So, are they rechargeable?'

'Some are, yet. Others... It depends what you do with them.'

Loki relaxes a little as they talk. Whatever the man wants from him, he is not demanding it now. The drink is warming, soothing, and Stark makes for an entertaining companion. It is a long time since he has been able to converse like this with a fellow scholar.

'So, if I was able to make one of these crystal thingies, would you be able to charge it?'

'To charge it? Well, yes. But how would you create such a thing? You are no sorcerer.'

Tony grins, cocky and self assured. 'No, I'm a scientist.'

Later, Loki is drifting of when he hears the familiar low rumble of Fury's voice at the door.

'Well?'

'We're making progress. You know, has it occurred to you that Loki could offer us more than simple information?'

'Stark, what are you thinking?'

'Let him work with me. I think his expertise could be really useful.'

'Tony, he's not a co-worker, he's a prisoner.'

'Only because he let us stick him in a prison. He's here to help, so let him help.'

'Now you sound like Thor.'

But he doesn't say no, and Loki's heart starts to race. Is it possible that they are starting to believe him? That they will start trusting him, at least enough to let him take an active role in the war? Not that he was ever going to sit back and be passive, but what he wants will be much better achieved by co-operation than guile. For once.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter from Tony's POV. Hope you all like. There will eventually be hut/comfort and some romance, I promise.

It's late when Natasha comes to take over guard duty. Banner is back too, staring at the results of some test or other, clearly not what he was expecting. Tony would ask, but he has places to be and things to do. Before he leaves, he casts his eye over Loki. The alien – god – whatever – is fast asleep, his breaths low and even.

Taking a leaf out of Pepper's book, he leaves some fruit by the bed, along with instructions that no one is to force him to eat, nor make a big deal out of it when he does. He also makes a mental note to buy Pepper something nice. Apparently, she had some friend or other at school who suffered with anorexia. Not that he thinks that's what going on with Loki, but her advice on how to help get some food down him was working so far. 

He heads down to Jane's lab, knowing that's where Thor will be. The thunderer is great at hitting thing and giving inspiring speeches. He's not so good at organising a war using earth based technology. So instead, he spends his time 'assisting' Jane and waiting around for something better to do. Or visiting Loki, but his visits have been short lately. Not knowing how to help, or even if he should be, is difficult for Thor.

But Tony had promised to let him know how his brother was doing, and today he's been doing well. He's not sure what to make of the former – possibly still – villain. He wants to hate him, he really does. This is the man – being – who threw him out of a window. Who caused the death of over 80 people, not to mention billions of dollars in damages. He killed Coulson, and that's all but unforgivable. And yet...

Tony can't help but feel some sort of kinship with him. Not just because of the ways in which they are similar – arrogant, attention seeking, genius levels of intelligence – but because he knows what it's like to go from being on top of the world, to being reduced to only pain and a bitter determination to survive. He doesn't doubt for a second that he's working with someone who's live through unimaginable torture, and if he hasn't come out the other side whole he isn't completely broken either. That's something Tony can respect.

Jane is busy scribbling in that notebook of hers. Surrounded by all that expensive equipment – much of it designed by yours truly – and she's fallen back on pen and paper. Odd ball. Still, maybe that's why she fits in with their rag tag little group. Thor looks up, expectant and nervous as he steps into her lab.

'Hey. So, I thought you should know your brother's doing better.'

'That is good to hear. Thank you.'

'No problem. He's a long way for well though Thor.'

'What can I do to help?'

'Honestly? Just be a good big brother. Fight his corner. I think he needs that.'

Thor only nods. Obviously. He might not always have succeeded on that score, but he can and will try harder now.

'Speaking of, I want you to come with me to speak with Nick.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah. I don't think Loki should be put back in his cell when he's better. At least, not full time. He's here willingly, and I'm as sure as I can be that he won't be running off any time soon. Not until the current threat is dealt with.'

'But he is still a wanted criminal.'

'True. But we can deal with that later. And for the record, so was Natasha. And Clint. Right now, he can help us, and I don't think we're in a position to turn that aid down.'

'You talk much sense.' Thor brightened. 'Perhaps, helping us now will lead my brother towards the path of redemption.'

Tony wasn't so sure about that, not yet, but he didn't want to disappoint his friend so he only nodded his agreement. They walked in companionable silence to go and see Fury, picking up Steve on the way. The director was in his office, deep in discussion with Agents Hill and Barton. 

'Aww look, almost the whole teams here.'

'Stark, you have a progress report?'

'And a plan.'

'Alright then.'

In short order they all found seats and coffee. Tony paused, ever the showman, waiting until he had their full attention.

'OK. So, Loki says they have access to some magic batteries. Sort of like the tesseract I guess, but smaller. One shot type things.'

'So... What? We sneak in there – wherever there is – and steal them?'

'Well, it's a possibility. But no. I was more thinking that we make our own, hook it up to some kind of destructive device – you know a bomb, or a robot army – and then throw it through their portal the moment it opens.'

Clint cocks his head to one side, thoughtful. 'Sort of like sticking a nuke in their midst? Well, it worked last time.'

'It did. Of course, that will only slow them down. But it's a start, and once I've made one I can make more.'

'Are you sure you can make them in the first place?' 

Fury's stare is cold and steady. He is sure he is going to be shot down now, but he has to try. Taking a deep breath, he throws the idea out there.

'With Loki's help? Yes.'

Clint bristles, the very idea of letting that lunatic have access to Tony's lab, and all the dangerous things there in does not sit easy with him. Still, he holds his tongue and listens.

'I know, we can't trust him right? And I agree. In general. Loki is NOT trustworthy. But you know what he is? Vengeful. And that vengeance is aimed very firmly at our common enemy right now.'

Thor nods eagerly. 'It is true, Loki has never let any slight, no matter how small, go unpunished. He'll help us, happily, to get back at those who have hurt him.'

Steve frowned. 'But, didn't we hurt him too? When we beat him?'

'Sure, but we beat him once. If need be, we can do it again.'

Clint snorted. 'You can count on it.'

His eyes burn with anger, but he's still not speaking out against the idea and Tony can't help but find that interesting. The silence stretches, until finally Fury nods.

'Alright. But Tony? This blows up in our faces and I'm holding you responsible.'

'Understood.'

Clint doesn't stares hard at the table, and when he speaks what he says isn't anything Tony was expecting.

'What did they do to him anyway? I mean... Everything we threw at him, and he just kept getting back up.'

Tony shrugged. 'No idea. But it was nothing good.'

Clint's eyes are clouded, maybe even a little guilty. 'No. Nothing good.'

Definitely interesting. 

As soon as his coffee's finished, Tony jumps up and heads down to the basement. He has an idea already on how to make a container for the sort of destructive forces Loki could throw around at will. In the morning, he'd let Loki know that he was on the team. Sort of. Maybe. Despite the inherent danger involved with working with the god of mischief, or perhaps because of it, Tony couldn't wait to see what Loki's impressive intellect could add to his work.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress, and the beginnings of real recovery. Perhaps. Also, plot.

Loki sleeps under the ever watchful gaze of the Black Widow. He shouldn't feel safe beneath her relentless glare, and the truth is he doesn't. He stirs, moving about the bed in an attempt to evade the eyes that watch him. He can't, for they are everywhere. So many eyes, and all upon him.

Only, that doesn't make sense. She is only one mortal woman, with only one pair of eyes. He forces his eyes open and is greeted only with blackness, all around. In that darkness cruel eyes glitter, seeking him out and looking upon him with derision. Voices whisper, slithering to his ears on an icy breeze. So many voices, all mocking. 

'We are coming for you. We are coming!' 

Natasha is bored. She doesn't want to be here, but she volunteered to spare Clint. She had seen the fear in his eyes when he had returned from his long shift of guard duty. He wouldn't tell her what he was afraid of, or even admit that he was. But his stricken eyes told her all she needed to know, and she had help him close that night. 

So here she is, sat down staring at a slumbering god. She would rather be fighting him. That was easier, in a way. Sure, he was strong. Far stronger than any human, but it wasn't his strength she feared. It was his words. Even when she used her skills to manipulate into telling her what she needed it had been painful. Traumatic, and far more dangerous than facing him in battle.

Right now however, he seems far from dangerous. He is tossing and turning in his sleep. Whimpering. She can't help but shiver. Loki, she knows, is not a being easily scared. What could give a god – particularly one as dark as Loki – nightmares? She knows she doesn't want to know, and with equal certainty that she will. If anything Loki has told them is true, then the Chitauri are coming. And with them Thanos, still an unknown quantity.

She is startled out of her reverie when Loki screams. It is a sound unlike any she has ever heard, unearthly and never ending, full of anguish.

She calls for Banner immediately. He's the doctor, he can deal with the traumatised god. Still, when Loki sits up, eyes wide and staring she finds it impossible not to go to him. She fills a glass with water, needing the excuse. The terror in his gaze is clear, and she drops her eyes rather than see it. When she approaches he reaches out and grabs her arm. It is the first voluntary touch he has offered since his arrival, but she doesn't think about that until later. Right now, she just wants his hand off her.

'They are coming. We are running out of time.'

Banner stumbles into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

'What is it? What's going on.'

'Loki had a nightmare.'

'Not a nightmare. A.. warning. Or a threat.'

'Right, because they can just talk to you whenever they want?'

Loki shudders, and Natasha can feel the fear thrum who her. She was being sarcastic, but his response...

'Not talk. But communicate. Yes. Always. Even before.'

'Before? You mean, when you were working with them?'

Loki nods his head, slowly. 

'And you allowed that?'

'Thanos allowed it.'

She doesn't want to know any more, and even though gathering intel is her job, she can't bring herself to ask. She understood what he was saying all too well. Whoever this Thanos was, he was apparently powerful enough to penetrate a powerful alien god sorcerer's mind. Fuck.

Banner fussed around Loki for a while, concerned that his temperature had risen again. Loki pushed him away, curling up into a ball and turning his face to the pillow. Hiding, so that they couldn't look at him, pulling the covers up over his head. 

He was like a child, she thought. A frightened child, trying to hide from the monsters. But these ones were all too real, and apparently in his head. When they wanted to be. If he had been afraid of them before, when he worked with them, she had seen no sign of it. Then again, she knew from bitter personal experience just how easy it was to hide those emotions you didn't want to be seen. To suppress them, until they were buried so deep you almost forgot you had ever felt them at all.

For the first time, something like understanding touched her. Loki was a master of lies, more than expert at hiding what and when he needed too. Whatever the Chitauri had done to him, they had robbed him of that ability, at least for now. She felt the first stirrings of sympathy, and that scared her more than anything.

Loki listened to the quiet, cautious conversation between Banner and Natasha. He couldn't quite make out the words, but he didn't really care. He was exhausted and afraid. All he wanted was to run away and hide, but there was no where to run to. No where that he wouldn't be found. He concentrated on slowing his breathing, until he had it under control. Then he took his fear and slowly, methodically turned it into something else. Turned it into anger and hatred at the creatures who had reduced him to a quivering mess.

They were coming. He had always known that. He had known it when the Hulk smashed him into the ground, and he had tasted defeat. He had known it when he languished in his cell on Asgard, and again here on Midgard. This time however he would be ready for them. His conversations with Stark had given him an idea. A crazy, insane idea. But he hadn't been blessed with sanity for a very long time, and that too could be an advantage.

He was on the verge of falling back into sleep, too tired to fight it, when he heard familiar heavy footsteps thudding their way into the room. Thor. He heard the calm, measured tones of Banner reassuring the other god. For a moment, he wanted his brother to come to him. To hold him, as he had when they were children and Loki woke from a bad dream. Then he remembered the truth.

Thor was not his brother, and even if he had been, Thor could not protect him now. Still, he didn't protest when a chair was scraped across the floor. Nor when he felt the warmth of a body say beside his bed, or when a large hand reached into his nest and found his own, slender fingers. He didn't push Thor away, he only kept his face hidden and pretended to sleep. At some point, he was no longer pretending.

When he woke once more it was morning. He opened his eyes, blinking until his vision cleared. As he came round, becoming fully aware he realised that he was gripping Thor's hand with both of his. Hissing in annoyance he threw that hand away from him, glaring up at the blonde god who still sat beside him.

'Good morning brother, I trust you slept well.'

'We are NOT brothers.' 

There was no denying that he had slept well however. He felt rested, for the first time in months. Which was an odd way to feel, given that he knew now they were running out of time. He pushed himself up, looking around. He and Thor were not alone. Natasha and Banner were both gone but Tony Stark was tapping away at a computer, one hand gripping a steaming cup of coffee. Hearing the exchange between the two, Tony turned and smiled.

'Great, your awake. Feel up to getting up?'

Loki blinked, slowly. 'Yes.'

'Good. Get dressed then. We'll be working down in the basement today.'

'We?'

'Yeah. Got a little project I think you can help with, and Natasha seems to think we need to get a move on with it.'

Cautiously, Loki slid his legs round and stood. His legs trembled a little but held his weight well enough. Ignoring Thor, stepping away when it looked like he was going to try and help, Loki grabbed the pile of clothing that had been laid out for him. He made his way carefully to the bathroom.

Every time he entered this place he couldn't help but recall Barton, and his unnecessary humiliation. Today was no different. It angered him still that the ability – and permission – to use the facilities whenever he needed them felt like such a big deal. There was even a shower, a wonderful contraption that was so much quicker and easier than a bath. Though far less luxurious than a long soak.

When he emerged from the bathroom he felt cleaner than he had in months. Dressed in the casual attire Stark had left him he didn't quite feel back to his usual self but it was a start. The man had even picked out something in black and green, a fact for which he felt absurdly grateful. 

As the day wore on that gratitude started to extend to Tony for many little things. Like the fact that he let pretended not to notice when Loki stole one of his doughnuts. Nor did he comment on Loki's all to obvious agitation when he had eaten it, only distracting him with idle gossip as they worked together. Then there was the project itself.

Tony was constructing some kind of artificial gem, one he hoped would be able to contain Loki's magic in much the same way that the crystals he had mentioned help power. When Loki pointed out that he wouldn't be able to supply the amount of energy needed – not in the time frame they had available – he listened in wonder as Tony suggested ways around that. Like using one of his arc reactors to amplify the power Loki could provide. It was a novel idea, testing it out was almost enough to make Loki forget why they were working together in the first place. Almost.

It was a long time since he had been given the opportunity to experiment like this. Too long. Not that the way Tony did things was the way he did. There was less reading involved and less finesse, but more explosions. Controlled explosions were rather a lot of fun, Loki decided. Though he burned to see what he could do with a less controlled variety.

Later. When he had seen what they could accomplish together, when he had had time to think. Then, then he would share his ideas with Tony. His plans. In the meantime, it felt good to be doing something, to be putting his knowledge to good use.

'I am Loki, and I'm saving the world.' It had a nice ring to it, almost enough to drown out the answering mocking voice which may or may not have been solely in his head. 'You are nothing.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some angst.

Now that Loki's health was improving, he was moved out of Banner's lab and back down to his cell. Not that he spent much time there. Most of his hours were spent with Stark, down in the basement. If being back in a cell rankled he didn't show it. The fact was oddly reassuring to Thor. He couldn't imagine that Loki was happy with such a state of affairs, and whilst his ability to hide what he was really feeling had always bothered Thor it was good to see his brother acting more like himself once more. 

He was headed down to the basement now, hoping to see how Loki and Tony were getting on, but also to suggest that they join the others for dinner. It was a risk, Loki had yet to sit and actually eat a meal. To eat at all, when he thought anyone was watching. But Thor worried at seeing his brother still so thin, so starved looking. 

As he approached the doors, he bumped into Pepper leaving them. He had never really spoken to her much, but he understood from Tony that it was she they had to thank for finding a way to get Loki eating. So now he greeted her with one of his trademark broad smiles.

'Lady Pepper! How are you this fine day?'

'Thor, it's raining.'

The god looked unabashed, merely grinning at her. 

'I wished to thank you.'

'For what?'

'For helping my brother.'

She shrugged. 'Just doing my job.'

'None the less. I thank you. You must let me gift you something in return!'

'Er... Sunshine?'

'Not within my power I am afraid.'

'Right. Well, I'm sure whatever you want to give me will be just fine.'

Thor pondered for a moment and then his eyes lit up.

'I shall ask Sif! She is a woman, she'll know what you want.'

'Right. Good. Because all women on all worlds clearly want the same things.'

'I am not so naïve. But you are an unusual woman Lady Pepper, and so is Sif.'

With that, he walked through the doors leaving a part confused, part amused Pepper in his wake.

The scene in the lab was one he couldn't help but greet with joy. Loki's eyes were animated as he held a ball of glowing green mist within his hands. With a casual flick, he sent it flying into a shimmering, glassy stone on the desk. There was a rather pregnant pause, followed by Loki smiling in triumph as Tony punched the air with his fist.

'We've cracked it!'

'It would appear that way, Tony Stark.'

Thor was almost loathe to interrupt their moment, particularly when his invitation might well dampen this gleeful mood of his brothers. They had already noticed his presence however and Thor was not one to back away.

'Tony, brother! I have come to ask you to join us for dinner.'

Loki's face paled and he frowned. 

'I am not hungry.'

'But you have been down here all day!'

'Leave it Thor.'

Tony butted in before this could degenerate into the usual super powered sibling rivalry.

'Sounds great, I'll be there. I'm sure Loki will come too if he decides he's hungry.'

Recognising that this was the best he could hope for, Thor nodded and left the pair alone.

Loki stared after his brother, his gaze oddly blank. Tony watched him for a moment, not sure whether to say anything or not. Loki had been making progress, but the odd snack here and there wasn't going to have him fighting fit any time soon, and he had a feeling they'd need Loki in all his mental glory in the coming days. Ignoring the issue was sort of working, but not quickly enough. Forcing the issue wouldn't work either, and might even be damaging. So, non-threatening confrontation it was.

'So, this whole food thing. What's that about?'

Loki flinched, as if he'd been punched. He turned to glare at Tony.

'None of your business.'

'Sure, but I'm nosy. I'm sure you've noticed.'

'And why exactly should I appease your curiosity?'

'I don't know. Why do you do anything you do Loki? But, you know if it wasn't for me you'd be stuck in a cell somewhere with nothing to do.'

The truth of that statement stung. It was true, Loki did owe Stark and he had always known that there would be a price – beyond building weapons of magical mass destruction – for the man's concern and companionship. Swallowing nervously, Loki sighed.

'Do you want to see me eat more Tony Stark?'

'I'd rather know why you don't, but yeah. That would be a start.'

Loki nods, once, the movement tight and very carefully controlled. 'Then I will accompany you to dinner later.'

They return to work, but the silence is strained and tense. Not the oddly companionable thing that had built up between them in the last few days. Tony cursed himself mentally. He'd clearly miscalculated somewhere. Sure, he wanted to see Loki taking better care of himself but his intention had been to coax the man into opening up to him. Now, Loki seemed more closed off than ever. Still, if it got him to eat a proper meal then it might be worth it.

Later that night, he would realise that it wasn't.

As soon as they entered the dining room Loki decided that he hated his brother and Stark both. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone. Some with barely concealed curiosity, others with anger. Still, he sat down and determined to endure this trial as he had all others. Despite his intentions, it was all he could not to gag at the first mouthful. He managed to clear his plate with a nearly herculean effort of will, but he was shaking by the time it was taken away.

He could feel the eyes upon him, watching him as he struggled. As he choked down every mouthful, even when he could feel it fighting to come back up. Even when his stomach started to ache. He remembered his first meal with the Chitauri, and the agonizing pain he had gone through afterwards. He knew that he was eating too much, but Stark was sat beside him and he owed the man.

By the time they made it back to the basement he was all but doubled up in pain. It tore at him. He burned and sweated with it. When Tony rested a concerned hand at his back, tears pricked his eyes and he hated himself when he leant into that touch. He slid to his knees, Stark sliding down to the floor with him. Holding him with one arm, whilst his other hand rubbed at his back.

'Loki? Loki, what is it? Do you need me to get Banner?'

Loki only should his head in mute misery. 

The pain pulled him down, back into his memories. Into a place he didn't want to remember. His swollen belly, the stabbing pains and the unbearable feeling of fullness dragged him back there regardless. He could feel his head burning fever hot again. His vision was blurred, and everything felt unreal.

Shivering, he pushed the one who held him back. Dragged himself on hands and knees to rest between his legs, tears falling unheeded from his eyes. Somewhere distant he hear someone calling his name, could feel someone grabbing his wrists, stopping him when he reached to undo the man's pants.

'Loki? Loki what are you doing? Stop!'

Tony swore, gripping the thin wrists of the god who become a pliant, submissive thing in his hands. He didn't want to understand what was happening, what this might mean. Not that the idea of a god giving him head was unpleasant, and now that he stopped to think about it, Loki was kind of hot. But not like this, his face pale and sickly, his eyes blank and streaming tears. No, this was not a good look for Loki. For anyone.

He managed to pull Loki into his arms, gently holding him there. Not sure what else to do, he held him against his chest and stroked his sweat dampened hair.

'Shh. You don't have to do that, it's OK Loki. Shh. I've got you.'

A broken whisper, almost lost amongst the sobs was his only answer.

'I'm nothing.'

Tony closed his eyes. He wasn't going to cry, not for Loki. Not for the enemy, the man who had killed his friend. The man who had tried to conquer his world. The man who was only helping them now out of a desire for revenge. He wasn't going to shed a single tear.

He held Loki, and he wept.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promise Clint's POV chapter.

Clint was still picking at his food when the alarm sounded. He was the first to jump up, closely followed by the others. Knife and fork in hand, he ran for the door. Cutlery might seem a stupid thing to grab in a fight situation, but in his hands they were nothing less than lethal weapons. And his bow wasn't directly at hand.

'Downstairs, Tony's lab.'

Nodding in understanding, Clint pushed past Fury and ran. Thor and Cap were close beside him, Natash, Maria and Fury just behind. Banner was the only one not to rush, following at a more sedate pace. Given that unleashing The Hulk inside HQ definitely counted as a bad idea Clint couldn't blame him.

He wanted to kick himself. How could they have let Tony hang out with Loki alone? He knew firsthand just how unstable the man was. How manipulative and cruel. He had almost felt sorry for him, less than ten minutes earlier. Seeing the methodical, uncomfortable way that he ate. All those eyes on him. Fuck. Loki had gotten to him. Again.

He hesitated at the doors, scared to think what he would see on the other side. Then Thor was past him and barging through them, so he followed quickly. He raised his knife, ready to throw it. Then instantly felt foolish when there was no one to throw it at.

Tony was sitting on the floor, a bruise blossoming on his cheek, cradling a wrist to his chest. An over turned work table, the expensive equipment it used to hold smashed on the floor was further evidence that a struggle had taken place. As for Loki, he was nowhere to be seen. 

'Fuck. Tony, you OK?'

'Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's not me I'm worried about.'

'Where is my brother?'

Tony swallowed nervously. 

'Guys, look. This isn't what it looks like.'

Clint rolled his eyes. Looking around the room, it was clear that this is exactly what it looked like. Loki had turned on Tony, the only one here besides Thor who had made any attempt to befriend him. They had all been fools to expect anything better. He had been a fool, to let his own guilt and confusion blind him. He'd worked with Loki before – he knew what the man was capable of. What he could make people do, how he could use them. He still had blood on his hands that Loki had made him shed. 

It was Fury that spoke the words they were all thinking.

'If this isn't what it looks like, then why are you injured? And where is our captive psychopath?'

Tony sighed. 'I'm injured because I'm an idiot. Look, Loki freaked out. I don't think he meant to hurt me. I'm not sure he even knew who I was – or where he was.'

Thor frowned at those words, and Banner's eyes narrowed in worry.  
'Are we talking about some kind of psychotic episode?'

'More like a flashback. Just... Go easy on him, OK? He's... I don't think he's a threat.'

'Tony, where is he?'

Tony wasn't saying and Clint was fed up of waiting for an answer they would never be given. He moved around the lab, his footsteps quiet and careful as those of a cat. With a smile of gratitude, he saw that Natasha was doing the same thing in the other direction. Great minds. He knew there was a reason he loved her.

He wasn't sure what he would do with the arrogant little shit when he found him, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant. Part of him was repulsed by such a thought, and he fougth to push that part down. 

This was why he had asked Fury to take him off guard duty. He remembered the way Loki had looked at him, and the way he had refused to look back, to see the need there until it was too late. He wanted to remember the guilt he had felt, helping Loki get cleaned up afterwards, but the dark pleasure he had taken in seeing that loss of control, that was something he wanted only to forget.

On some level, he recognised that this urge to see Loki hurt and hurting came from a bad place within him. Something rotten and putrid. It was like a sickness that had been growing within him ever since the god had messed with his head. It wasn't even the things Loki had had him do – he had killed before, he'd do so again – it was the cold way he had done it. As if none of it had mattered. It was the way he had made Clint feel, as if all that mattered was serving Loki.

He knew that his need for pay back was a bad thing. He'd even spoken with Natasha about it, about getting help. Just as soon as there was time. When this damned war was over – and wasn't that war Loki's fault too? Did the Chitauri have any interest in earth before Loki drew their attention to it? He doubted it. 

Then he heard it, a soft sob, barely more than a whisper. He glanced into the dark shadowed corner, taking in the sight before him. Loki, huddled like a broken thing, as small as he could make himself. Hiding in the dark. Wide green eyes stared at him, pleading for something though he wasn't sure what. For one horrible moment he exulted in the sight of the broken god. It was enough to make him swallow back the bitter, burning taste of bile in his throat. He was better than this, better than what Loki had done to him. He had to be.

Then he heard the quite, ragged whisper in the dark. 

'I asked you not to touch me. Please, please don't touch me.'

His eyes widened, and he took a step back. Whatever he had thought he wanted, it wasn't this. It took a moment to get his breath, to hold back the vomit that threatened to spill from his guts. Then he called out. 

'Guys, I found him. He's... He's here.'

His voice wobbled, and he dropped the stupid bloody fork, clenching his fist instead. Thor was there in seconds and as soon as he was Clint left. He fled, running for the nearest bathroom. When he stopped being sick he sank back on his knees. Whatever Loki had done to him, he'd never been reduced to anything like the terrified mess he'd just seen. The one he'd wanted to hurt, had hurt, and the fact that he hadn't known how bad it was didn't help. It was no excuse. He was supposed to be a hero, he should have been the better man. 

When Natasha found him, she didn't bother with words. She only slid her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek against his shoulder. They sat like that in silence for a while, and it was enough. Whilst he had Natasha it was enough, because she had been to those dark places too and she'd pulled herself out of them. She'd never let him fall of the path, she'd always pull him back. Always.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more angst, but also Thor hugs. Thor hugs are good, right?

Loki can feel them, standing around and staring at him. He tries to withdraw further into the false safety of the corner, knowing it won't do him any good. He can't fight back, he can't get away. He can feel the collar round his neck, choking him. And there is a warm body crowding him back against the wall.

A warm body... Too warm. The Chitauri weren't truly cold, not like the Frost Giants, but they weren't hot blooded either. Luke warm at best. He scrabbled at his neck, nails clawing at his skin and stopped. There was no collar, only his own hands, choking him. He dropped them, holding them out infront of him and staring at them. His knuckles hurt on his left hand, as if he had hit something very hard.

Because he had. Tony Stark's face. He remembered now, through the blink panic. Part of him wondered why he wasn't exultant. Smacking that smug expression off Stark's face was surely a good thing. Only Stark hadn't been smug, he'd been... concerned. And Loki only felt mortified. Worse, the dark trouser Stark had given him clung to him with an all too familiar wetness. Once again, he was left sitting in a puddle of his own making. 

And they were all standing there, staring at him. He wanted to scream, or hurt something, but his limbs were still shaking and he couldn't make them move how he wanted to. Finally, after what felt like an age he made himself look up. Thor stood before him, blocking him form view. Stopping the others from seeing him like this.

The flash of gratitude he felt left a foul taste in his mouth. He shouldn't need this protection. He shouldn't. And it was too late now, anyway. Thor should have been there sooner. So much sooner.

He flung himself at his brother, wild and like an animal. Hating his lack of control. He could feel his nails shredding as he tore at him, venting his impotent rage at the world.

'How can you say you love me when you let this happen? How?'

'Loki... I...'

'You let them take me. You LET them take me. I needed you and you just let them take me.'

There were tears in Thor's eyes, a sorrow that Loki wanted to understand but couldn't. It couldn't be for him. Not him. The Jotun monster. The imposter, the unwanted prince. Not for him. 

'You let them take me.'

And there, there was the one truth he had never wanted to speak, to recognise. That he had needed Thor then, to stop them. To come to him and listen to him. To keep him safe. To prove that his words were true, when he insisted they were brother's still. That he was someone worth loving and saving, that he wasn't too far gone for redemption. 

'You didn't come for me Thor.' His words are a whisper now, all he can manage. 'You let them take me and you didn't even look for me.'

Thor flinches at that, the words cutting deeper than any other action Loki could have taken. Finally, Loki stops striking out, sagging in Thor's arms. He doesn't have even the strength to hold himself up now. Instead he falls against his brother's chest and lets him hold him. Lets him remind him what it feels like to have a brother, one who cares. One who will hold him close and keep him safe. It is a lie, and one that he knows he will despise himself for later. But it is one he needs now. 

On the other side of the room, Banner is checking on Tony. The wrist is sprained, but not broken. As he bandages it up, they all try not to listen to the god having a melt down in the corner. Not to hear that anguish. Even Fury wishes he could flee the sounds of that pain. The situation seems under control again, for now. He could leave, but he doesn't. This is the situation he is presented with, the one he can and must take advantage of, if he is to ensure the safety of his people, his home. His planet. 

If he is going to use Loki, then he owes him this much. To not run like a coward from his hurt. He is grateful to the silent, but strong presence of Maria at his side. The matter of fact way she is now directing them all. Tony she sends to get patched up properly with Banner. Natasha and Clint are already gone. Maria herself disappears, only to return with a fresh pair of jeans and underpants. It is only Steve and Nick that stand around now, unsure what, precisely, they can do.

Loki has stopped screaming now, stopped struggling. His sobs are quiet and muffled. Steve shifts awkwardly.

'Should we... Should we go? Leave them alone?'

Fury knows what he is asking. Is it safe, to leave Thor alone with his crazy little brother? He lowers his head, thinking. He has to trust that it is, that Thor knows what he's doing. He could ask that Loki be dragged back to his cell, contained there until they are sure he isn't a danger. But they could never be sure of that, and in the aftermath of Loki's breakdown he doesn't have it in him to lock him up again. 

'Yeah. We should go. Thor?'

Thor turns to look at him, his own face littered with tear drops.

'If you need anything, just call. We'll get this place cleaned up later.'

Thor nods, wordlessly.

Then the brother's are alone, and Thor can only hold on tight as Loki weeps against him.

Eventually, Loki's sob settle down, so that they are no longer continuous. He sniffles, and wipes his dripping nose on Thor's top. It reminds him again of being a child with Thor and his heart aches. He hadn't fitted in, even then. He hadn't been happy – not truly happy. And now, even those bitter-sweet memories are tainted by the truth of what he is.

He pushes himself away from Thor, forcing his back straight.

'I am sorry to inflict such an unseemly display upon you.'

'Loki, you have nothing to be sorry for.'

'But I do, don't I?'

Neither of them can deny it. Thor longs to pull his brother back into the safety of his arms, but he can already feel Loki withdrawing. He sighs. 

'Do you... Do you want to talk about it?'

'No. Not now. Not ever.' He adds silently to himself, 'And not to you.'

'Oh.'

They stand there in silence, floundering together. Neither sure of what, exactly, they should do next. Loki grimaced in disgust and discomfort. The damp pants clung to him in a way that was far from pleasant. Spying the clean clothing that Agent Hill had provided, he slipped past Thor and changed. 

'I.. Is Tony Stark OK.'

'I think so. You did not hurt him badly.'

'Good.'

Loki looks around at the destruction he has caused. It is minimal, by comparison. He is relieved to see that their shared endeavour, the weapon they are developing to fight the Chitauri, is undamaged. Still, the mess bothers him. He remembers the worried look in Stark's eyes. His tears. 

He couldn't begin to understand why the man would cry for him, of all people. Why he had tried to comfort him. He tried not to think about what he had tried to do. 

Needing something to distract him from his thoughts, and strangely reluctant to be parted from Thor he walked over to the fallen work top. Gesturing to the debris that litters the floor he risks a quick glance at Thor.

'Shall we?'

Together, they clean up Loki's mess and it is almost like being family again. Almost.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally (for today) some fluff.

After Loki's break down, things settle down for a little while. It is hard not to walk on egg shells around their sort of captive – for no one really thinks of him that way now, though he is still far from a welcome ally – but something changed in that room. It is impossible to deny now that Loki is a victim, and whatever he has done in the past, no true hero could look at such pain without wanting to help ease it.

It takes a few days before Loki dares to venture back to the basement. He slips into his cell instead, reluctant to leave it at first. The door remains unlocked, leaving him to stare at it in suspicion. Apparently, he is free to come and go as he pleases. How ironic then, that what he needs right now is to be safely contained until he regains his hard won control.

He makes himself walk into the basement, determined to face Tony. Perhaps to apologise, though he would rather forget the events that make such words necessary. Tony is hard at work, jamming a screw driver into the box he is making to hold their crystal substitute. He barely glances up when Loki comes in.

'One minute, almost done...'

A second later, he drops the screw driver onto the work surface and runs a hand through his hair. He turns to face Loki with a quick smile of greeting.

'Mind hitting that switch for me? I think I have this thing working now.'

Loki hesitates. 'I... I wanted to say sorry.'

'Hey, that's cool. I shouldn't have forced the issue, with the whole food thing. Or the touching. My bad.'

Swallowing, nervous and not sure why, Loki flips the switch Tony indicated. Absolutely nothing happens.

'Huh. Well, guess we still have some more work to do.'

'You still wish to work with me, Tony Stark?'

'I do. And, it's just Tony.'

'Tony.'

Loki waits for it to become awkward, but Tony refuses to let that happen. He stubbornly carries on as if Loki hadn't flipped out and attacked him. Loki can't help but look around, looking for some sign of what had happened here. A new workstation has been installed to replace the one he pushed over, though it is far less cluttered. There is nothing else. No stinking puddle to remind him of his fear and shame. Only a fading bruise on Tony's face and a certain stiffness in the way he holds his injured wrist.

Loki has to fight a sudden urge to touch that bruise. To let his magic remove it, as if it had never been. He can not be angry with Tony for touching him uninvited, only to do the same in return. Tony catches him staring and just grins.

'Hey, I've gotten a love pat from The Hulk before, this is nothing.'

Loki nods, managing a smile of his own. Then they just get back to work. Lunchtime comes and goes, Tony tucking into a burger whilst Loki nibbles cautiously at what he is assured by Pepper is a 'sandwich'. He only eats half, afraid of what will happen if he forces himself to eat more. 

Afterwards, Tony brings out the bottle of whisky. It helps, a little. 

'You know, if you ever want to let me know what upset you so much, that would be OK. Useful even.'

Loki can't stop the suspicion which flashes through him. 'Useful in what way?' 

He hates the thought that Tony is fishing for information with which to hurt him. Trying to understand an enemies weakness and vulnerabilities, so that he can take advantage of them later is exactly what Loki would do. 

'Well, for a start it means I probably wouldn't do it again. Probably. And apparently, talking helps.'

'So I keep being told.'

He waits for a while, but Tony makes no further effort to draw him out and there is a sort of comfort in that. He is surprised to find that he does want to talk, then frustrated to realise that he doesn't have the words to say what he wants to. What he needs to. As if sensing this, Tony puts down the box he is still working on and takes a sip of his drink.

'They really messed you up, huh?'

'Yes.'

'Yeah. I get that. Did I ever tell you about the time I was tortured in Afghanistan?'

'I... No.'

'Bad times my friend, bad times.'

Loki's eyes widened. Had Tony Stark just referred to him as a friend? Suddenly bashful, he found himself fiddling with his own glass. 

'They... Did they make you...'

'They made me work for them. Making weapons.' Tony shrugged. 'So I did, I just worked on a weapon of my own at the same time.'

Loki cocked his head. So, not only had Tony suffered but he too had capitulated, done what was required by his captors. Thought building something was a far cry from the shameful, vile acts he had been forced to commit.

'They made me... work... too.'

'Yeah?'

'For food. And other things.'

He can't bring himself to say more. The flash of pity – or was it understanding – in Stark's eyes told him that the man understood more than he had said. 

'You know, it's different here. You don't have to...' Tony paused, trying and failing to find a delicate way of saying this. 'You don't have to pay for food here. OK?'

Loki nods. He knows. He does know, most of the time.

They work for another hour or so before Tony insists Loki needs to go to bed. He finds himself being walked to the door, where he hesitates. 

'Good night, Tony.'

It feels strange, simply calling Tony by his name. As if they have known each other for years. As if they are friends. Tony responds with a warm smile that makes his eyes sparkle.

'G'night Loki.'


	11. Chapter 11

Loki wakes sobbing, and it takes me several minutes to remember where and when he is. It is hard to tell if his dream was just re-living his time with the Chitauri, or a promise of what was to come. Either way, he was getting no more rest tonight. Sliding out of his make-shift bed he glanced around the cell. Small changes had been made since he had first been placed here.

For a start, there were piles of comfortable cushions and soft blankets. Better, the lights were dimmed now at night. He was never left in darkness, but the light wasn't bright enough to keep him awake. Best of all, the door was never locked. Every time he woke up it was the first thing he checked, and every time the little green light which indicated that the locks were disengaged blinked back at him.

Raking one hand through his hair – so long now it tickled the back of his shoulders – he sighed. If sleep was to be denied him he might as well make himself useful. There was work to be done, and not enough time to do it in. Throwing on some clothes, he headed out of the door. 

Arriving at the basement lab, he was not surprised to find the lights on and Stark hard at work. So engrossed in what he was doing in fact that he didn't immediately notice when Loki entered.

'Tony.'

'Oh, hey! Is it morning already?'

'No.'

Tony tinkered for a moment longer then blinked. He turned round in his stool to stare at Loki, a touch of concern in his eyes.

'What's up?'

'Not sleeping, thought I might as well help.'

'Cool. Well, this is nearly ready for testing. I want to see how the timing mechanism interacts with your magic.'

Loki nods, once, grateful as ever that Tony makes it so easy to concentrate on the mission at hand and not the things he'd rather forget. Loki has been thinking lately that Tony's plan, whilst it has a certain direct merit, will not do much but annoy the Chituari. Not unless they can target the bomb – which is basically what they are making. Without their leadership, the Chituari will falter and fall. Literally, if the their last visit to Midgard was anything to go by. It might, he reflects, be time to see what Tony thinks of HIS plan.

'What do you expect to happen? When we set this thing off.'

'Well, I'm hoping for a big fucking bang. Otherwise, embarrassment all round followed by death.'

Loki can't help but smile. The human's humour is as infectious as it is annoying.

'I was thinking more about when and where you expect this bang to happen.'

'Oh. Well, I figure I fly through their portal, set the timer and get the hell out of dodge.'

'That sounds dangerous.'

'War IS dangerous Loki.'

Loki nods once, in agreement. 'Yes.'

Tony glances at him, one brow raised in query. 'What are you thinking?'

'That won't stop them. Blowing up their front lines will only slow them down, and what if they arrive through more than one portal.'

It's something that's been bothering Tony for a while now, but he doesn't have a good answer.

'I figure, when I'm done with the prototype, making more will be easy. Well, easier. They open more portals? We blow those up too.'

'We won't have time.' 

There is a certainty in Loki's voice that worries Tony. A dangerous, manic gleam to his eyes that bothers him more.

'So, what? We just give up? That isn't going to happen Loki. We'll fight them. We did it before. And this time it won't be just us. This time we'll have our own army to back us up.'

They both know that army won't be enough. Though maybe the one on Asgard will be. The thought makes Loki uneasy. If the Asgardian's come here, then who will be left to protect his – former – home? He mustn't lose sight of that. 

'No. Giving up is not an option. I-I have an idea.' 

His voice trembles and he hates it, hates the fear that threatens to overwhelm him. The he recalls his dream, what they did to him. What they will do to him again if they get their hands on him – only then it will be so much worse. On the back of the rising wave of terror is one of hatred and anger, he seizes it and when he speaks next his voice is steady once more.

'I know where their generals will be, their leaders. That is where we need to set this off.'

'Wait, you know? And you were going to tell us when exactly?'

Loki frowns. 'When it was relevant. None of you have the means to get there.'

'But you do?'

'I do.'

Tony sighs, shaking his head. Is Loki really suggesting that they give him a deadly, magical bomb of unknowable destruction and let him skip off with it to who knows where? That is so never going to happen. Fury would never allow it. Though Tony doesn't doubt for a second that Loki would do the right thing, at least this once. He's not sure exactly why, but he trusts the man – god – whatever – stood before him. Maybe because he's seen Loki's pain first hand, and it's not the sort of thing even the liesmith could fake.

'Do you really think Fury will let you out of our sight with a weapon? Seriously?'

'Tony, I never said I would be going alone.'

There is a plea in his eyes, guarded and hidden but Tony sees it anyway. He answers it with a grin, his own special brand of reassurance. No, Loki won't be going in there alone. He'll have the Avengers at his back. Even Fury can't argue with that. 

They get back to work with a new enthusiasm. The time of reckoning is approaching, fast. 

The entire team seems to feel the same sense of urgency. Loki shies away from considering himself part of that team, but it is becoming increasingly clear that he is. At least, to a point. He starts being dragged into meetings. On one confusing day, after Tony makes him tell Fury what they are planning, he finds himself LEADING a meeting. 

Given his brief stint at kingship – but he never wanted to king, not really – and his one attempt at conquering a world, leading something should have been easy for Loki. Once, it would have been. Before. Now, he can feel all those eyes looking at him, expectant and waiting. For a moment he panics, wondering what they want from him. Then he catches Tony's eye and the man winks. It is ridiculous, but it makes him smile.

He takes a deep breath and gets ready to share.

'We will have to wait for them to gather their armies. For the moment they are about to launch their attack.'

'Why?'

'Because until then, they will be preparing. Not together, not all of them. We need them to be together, to get them all.'

'Right. And you'll know this magic moment when it's right because...?'

Loki shudders, his eyes glazing for a moment. 'I'll know. Trust me.'

And nobody really wants to, because whatever Loki might be – villain, victim, ally – he is also the god of trickery and mischief. But they do, because like him or hate him not one of them can doubt that Loki intends to put an end to the Chitauri.

'I can take us there, but it won't be pleasant, and I'll be... weakened.'

Thor frowns. 'Will you be OK brother?'

For once, Loki can't bring himself to point out that they really aren't. He only rolls his eyes.

'Oh yes Thor. I will be fine. Better than.'

The feral look to his eyes is unnerving. The heated anger that burns there not something anyone wants to see. Loki looks like he could happily tear the Chitauri apart with his bare hands. 

'But, you will need to hold them off, while I set and place the device.'

'Hey! It's my device. Well, our device. Why do YOU get to be the one to play with it?'

'Because you will be too busy protecting me Tony.'

There it is again, that desperate, secret plea that only Tony seems able to recognise. Oh. Well, of course he will be busy protecting Loki. Loki, who has just told them he will take them right into the den of his worst nightmare, and that doing so will leave him weak and vulnerable. He curses himself for speaking without thinking, but there's no real point to it. He knows that of all the things he can and needs to change, that's just not a priority.

'If we get this right, we will destroy their command structure, their leaders, before they even have a chance to open the portal.'

'If we don't?'

'Oh, but we will Captain. We will.'

And there is no arguing with the savage determination in Loki's face.


	12. Chapter 12

Two days after the meeting and everything is ready to go. Now all they have to do is wait, wait until the right time.

Loki paces backwards and forwards in the basement lab. It feels odd to be there without anything to do and for a moment he wishes that they weren't ready, just so he had some way to pass the time. Tony had been playing around with a new project, something to do with making sea water drinkable, or so he says. Now however, the man has lain down his tools and is watching Loki.

'You alright there?'

'Yes.' Loki realises that he's snapping and sighs. 'No.'

'Wanna talk about it?'

'Not really. Maybe.'

'Huh. Not very decisive today, are you?'

'I... I just want this to be over.'

Even as he says it Loki realises with a start that it isn't quite true. He DOES want the confrontation over with. It's been all he can think about. He wants to tear out the Chitauri's heart and rip it to shreds. But that particular Chitauri is already dead, and there are just so many others. Too many. 

What he doesn't want is for everything else to be over. The sort of truce with the Avengers. The almost reconciliation with his bro- with Thor. The not quite friendship with Tony. Especially that. He has enjoyed his time working down here and not just because the whole idea of combining Midgard science with Aesir – Jotun – magic is a whole fascinating ballpark that he wants to explore further. He had enjoyed Tony's company, his easy going manner that fails to truly hide the more serious exterior.

He never expected to feel this way about a mortal. He's not Thor after all. There is no denying that the irritating little man has gotten under his skin though, for any number of reasons. For not mocking, when it would have been so easy for him to do so. For not being afraid. For having a mind so complex and quick that even Loki finds himself breath taken by it at times. 

'Well, not long now, right? We're just waiting on the signal. Or whatever.'

Tony's words are something akin to prophecy. Even as Loki goes to voice his agreement, he can feel the weight of them in his mind. Feel himself being pulled away, somewhere else inside his head. IT HURTS. He wants to cry out, but can't. There are a thousands of them, all staring. And then a voice he would be happy to never hear again.

'Run, little god. Run.'

But there is nowhere to run, not in your own mind, so Loki cries out instead. A wordless noise full of pain but also anger, outrage at what they have done to him. Continue to do to him. Just before it becomes unbearable, he feels a firm, warm arm around his shoulders. A deep, worried voice in his ear.

'Loki?'

His eyes clear and he stares into Tony's eyes, unable or unwilling to hide the terror in them.

'It is time.'

Tony only nods, and pulls him against his chest.

'It'll be fine. I've got you.'

There is little time then for talking. Sif and the Warriors Three have been in situe for a while now. Loki has guessed where the portal will open. In the same way that he knew Thanos would head to Midgard, he knows that he will chose the exact same city – if not quite the same place – Loki did to start his campaign. Whilst the Avengers are out of town, it will be the Asgardian warriors task to kill anything that comes through if it opens. There are a whole host of Midgardian heroes who've stepped up to join then, but Loki feels better knowing that some of his -former- people will be there too.

They all gather together in the war room to say their farewells. Loki can't help but smile at the faint signs of friction between Sif and Jane, or the deviously successful way that Pepper manages to diffuse the situation. Sif has long had designs on Thor. If Loki thought she would listen he might point out that Jane is but a mortal. Sif will have another chance, probably a hundred of them.

He has to look away when Thor and Jane says their farewells. The look Jane is giving Thor makes him ache, what he would give for someone – anyone – to look at him like that. Like he would be missed if he was gone, like they feared for him. Natasha and Clint are more pragmatic about the whole affair. They share a last kiss before every battle, in case it is their last, but neither gets soppy about it. They have always known the risks, after all.

The hushed voices, the forced laughs, all this hugging and kissing, it is grating on Loki's nerves. They don't have time for all this touchy feely nonsense. Beside him, Tony is likewise chafing at the bit, keen to be gone. He is out of patience and about to say something when Banner interrupts.

'Loki, a word.'

Throwing his hands up in frustration, he walks away with the doctor. There is nothing like privacy here, the room may be big but it is also crowded. Still, they find a corner that gives them the illusion of it and Loki waits to see what Banner has to say.

'What is it?'

'I just wanted to check you're up to this.'

'Up to it? Of course I'm up to it!'

His voice is to loud, his irritation touched with a hint of panic. He swallows it back down, it is just another thing there isn't time for.

'You're stronger Loki, but you've already said that this is going to drain you. We all saw the state you were in when you got here, so forgive me if I'm a little concerned.'

'I... You've taken much better care of me than they did. I'm fine.'

Banner doesn't look convinced. In fact he looks like he has something further to say. The way he is looking at Loki, as though he's a bomb that might go off at any second. With a sudden realisation, Loki understands. The doctor is worried that he will fall apart when they get there. That faced with the ones who tortured him he won't be able to do his part. That he'll fall to pieces again, or explode in a violent rage.

He'd like to say that it's not possible, but he can't. What he does know is that thinking about breaking, about not being strong enough only furthers his own anxieties. He needs to be well. He needs to be able to do this, because any other option is unthinkable.

'Don't worry Dr Banner. I'll get us there and I'll do my job. If I can't, Tony knows what to do.'

'Good, I guess. Just... If you're not OK, don't be afraid to say so.'

This is the sort of thing he would expect from the good captain, though it shouldn't surprise him. Next to Tony and Thor, Banner is the one who has had most to do with him. Who has taken care of him. He realises he has never thanked the man, and hopes he lives long enough to do so. 

Right now, the team are all here and finally ready to go.

Loki stands with the Avengers, and it almost makes him laugh. This was no where he ever expected to be. He closes his eyes, taking no time at all to find the path he wants. Then he grabs Tony's hand one side and Thor's on the other. 

'Hold on.'

The slight shifts in movement are enough for him to know that everyone has a hand on somebody else. He concentrates, sweat beading on his forehead, speaking ancient arcane words. He can feel the gateway when it opens, tries not to be distracted by the startled gasps all around him. Then with a familiar pulling sensation that he knows better than to resist, he steps forward bringing his team mates with him.


	13. Chapter 13

Walking the hidden pathways, the far reaching branches of Ygddrasil is not a new experience for Loki. It is for everyone else however, and he can sense their nerves as they walk. There is nothing but darkness, no light to see by, no sense of anything beneath their feet. It would not reassure them, he thinks, if they knew that it is his sheer strength of will that keeps them from falling.

It is however, and the effort of it is almost a relief. He can't think about anything else. Not the coming battle, not all the little ways this could all go wrong. Not failure, the one thing he seems destined to always find. Only this, the small handful of heroes who are reliant on him now to keep them safe. Not to lose them in the darkness. And the destination, that far distant hall where Thanos and his generals will be waiting.

He knows when he reaches the right place, he can feel it. Feel THEM, just out of sight and reach. He strains to see what is there, who. Waits for one heart beat, then a second. Yes, he can feel them. Those who were present and plotting when he left. Those who have orchestrated this whole thing from the start. Who sent him to Midgard in the first place. All but one, and that one died beneath his hands.

He wishes they would all die that way, slowly. Knowing what is coming. But it is not to be. His vengeance must be quick, it is the only way to safeguard Midgard and Asgard both. 

'Are you ready?'

He listens for and hears the soft, hushed confirmations. Then he is shaping a doorway for them, and pushing it open. Stumbling through it, into the eerie light of Thanos' throne room. He drops to one knee, panting for air, more tired than he had expected. The Avengers step through with him, surrounding him in seconds. A firm hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes it. For a second he thinks it is Tony, but Tony is encased now in his metal suit and in any case the hand is too big. Thor then. 

Then there is no time for contemplation. He is being yanked to his feet and handed the almost mundane looking box. The metal face mask he has only ever faced in bottle tilts towards him. An unspoken question. He stands straight, lifts his head. Yes, he is ready and good to go.

'Remember, when I activate this we have a minute to get out of here. Just one.'

Then the Chitauri guards are there, flinging themselves at the assembled heroes. Loki tries not to see them, not to think as he runs forwards, trusting Tony to clear him a path. There are sounds of battle behind and around him, chaotic bursts of fire and force blast those who stand in his way.

In the centre of the room is a pedestal, upon which rests a handful of darkly gleaming crystals, full of eldritch power. Energy that he can harness, can use to make their explosive gift go off with the biggest of bangs. He runs for it, almost making it when a lone Chitauri manages to slip past Tony's rapid fire and lunges at him.

No! It will not touch him. He will never again let one of those things even so much as LOOK at him. He throws it off with all the strength of his heritage, Aesir and Jotun both. Whatever the Chitauri expected from him, outright violence clearly wasn't it. 

He moves forward then, flicking knives out seemingly at random, though they hit their targets as surely as Hawkeye's arrows. He uses the last of his strength to leave solid seeming reflections of himself everywhere. Somewhere close by he can hear Thor screaming out in the savage glee that so often comes across him in battle. He can hear the twang of a weapon bouncing from Cap's shield. He can neither see nor hear Natasha, which means the Widow is winning her own battles. Of that he is sure.

He is almost exultant as he reaches his target. The Hulk is smashing Chitauri and furniture alike, sending shattered bodies flying in all directions. Tony is up in the air, reigning fire upon the rapidly depleting depleting supply of Chitauri soldiers, whilst Clint does the same with his arrows. He fends off the attacks of those who stray too close, lashing out with magic, with fists, with whatever comes to hand. It is not his usual style, this direct assault. But it feels good.

Then no more are coming at him, and he risks a look around. Thor is helping Cap up from the floor, and Hulk is looking around in enraged disappointment. A small contingent of Chitauri – the ones who matter, the leaders – are clustered around the throne, as if for protection.

They are winning! He almost laugh with the sheer, unadulterated high of it. They are going to win. HE is going to win, for once. Then his eyes flicker up to the throne. The empty throne. 

It kills his laughter instantly. He doesn't want Thanos out of his sight, not for a single second. This is not the time or the place for pleasure, or congratulations. They are not done yet. He lays a hand on the pedestal, stroking his long, slender fingers over the crystals gently. Coaxing the power from them, giving it a new path.

With hands that tremble with adrenaline as much as fatigue, he lifts the box up, clicks it open. It is time.

'Loki! Look out!'

Tony is above him, calling out. Directing his lasers at something – someone – who approaches Loki from behind. He can hear the footsteps now, slow and unhurried. Arrogant, and with good reason. He lays the box down, carefully. A soft caress against the button Tony installed to prime it. Now all he has to do is say the word....

Strong hands grab him, pulling him away and around. He pushes back, but his strength is almost spent. Then there is a tip pressing against his chest, pushing in and he can feel his heart thudding against it. Thanos smiles, and there is so much madness in that look. So much that Loki recognises. It is like looking into a mirror, but one where the reflection thrums with power he has only ever dreamt about.

He remembers the sceptre well. The cool feel of it in HIS hands. For one fleeting second his gaze skitters around the hall, seeking for and finding Hawkeye. He wants to say he is sorry. He wants to shout out the word that will trigger their beautiful, mechanical and magical bomb. He knows it will kill them all, without him they can't escape but if they fail now... If they fail – if HE fails – there is no future anyway.

He opens his mouth to speak, but it is too late. The gleam in Thanos' eyes tells him that. The way his jaw grows slack and the word he needed to speak dies unspoken. It is not that he can't remember, only that the necessity is no longer there. It is not what Thanos wants, and in that second it is no longer what he wants either.

Somewhere he can feel himself screaming, that this is wrong. So wrong. It can not shout loudly enough.

'Loki, my little god. Give me that. Now.'

Thanos doesn't even need to indicate, Loki knows what he means. What he wants. He steps back to the pedestal, barely even aware of the horrified shouts and pleas all around him. He knows that he made this to kill Thanos, not to hand over to him. He can even remember why, but it doesn't seem to matter now. Nothing seems to matter.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More pain for Loki, who is apparently my favourite punching bag. Or something. But, also Loki being BAMF in his own awesome way, and Clint has a moment to shine too. Hope you all enjoy. Only a few parts left now.

'Fuck! Guys, this is really not good.'

Tony knows he doesn't need to say it, but he does anyway. He knows too that he should be thinking more about the fact that Loki just handed over the most ridiculously powerful weapon he's ever been responsible for and less about how much this is going to hurt Loki when it's done. Then again, Tony's always has a slightly skewed sense of priorities.

It's almost a relief when Steve steps up and takes control.

'Right. No need to panic. We can take them, there's only a handful of...'

His words are cut off with a grunt when Natasha goes flying into him. They'd all been so busy looking at the awful scene playing out in front of them that they forgot to look at the doors. More Chitauri soldiers are pouring in from all sides. Still, they've already taken out a hall full of these things once. Not to mention an army, and at least there are none of the crazy big armoured things here.

So, they'll have to kill more than a handful. Tony can live with that. Hulk and Thor run into battle side by side, whilst Natasha jumps up and ducks behind Cap's hastily raised shield. Clint is already firing at everyone and everything, his arrows an all but endless storm. 

Tony heads up high, he's yet to find the ceiling of this vast, cavernous place and he's not complaining about that. From up here he has a good vantage point with which to see Thanos, and Loki. He's never wanted to hit someone up side the head quite as much as this before, but that's all it will take to knock Thanos right out of Loki's head. It's a good plan. Simple.

Made less so by the fucker that is shooting at him, forcing him to dive and duck when all he wants is to head back down and rescue the god he's started to think of as a friend. The suit is doing most of the work, but even so it's hard and he's panting for breath in minutes. He blasts into the swarming mass of creatures below him, then pauses for a breather. Risks a glance at Loki and almost wishes he hadn't.

Thanos hasn't even spared a glance for the Avengers, like they aren't even a little bit of a threat. Maybe, to him, they aren't. He has a lot of attention to spare for Loki though, and Tony's blood runs cold when he sees the cold, calculating look he casts over the god. He lifts the box from Loki's hands, contemplating it with a curious expression for a moment. Then he looks at Loki.

'Crawl.'

Tony swears, hating the being with a passion he'd never imagine possible as he watches Loki slide gracefully to his knees, place his hands on the floor and follow his new master as he walks calmly back to his throne. If, no WHEN they get out of this, Loki is going to hate himself. More than he already does, which is more than anyone but perhaps Tony suspects.

Tony fights with renewed vigour, then realises he doesn't need to fight at all. Not yet. He can stay out of range, until he's near enough to get to Loki. He's acting almost before he's finished thinking. That bastard is not going to hurt and humiliate Loki any further, not if Tony has anything to say about. 

By the time he reaches them, Thanos is settling back in his throne, Loki resting at his feet, limp and pliant. Submissive can be a good thing, at times. Right now, it's the worst thing Tony could imagine. 

'Let him go!.'

Thanos laughs, and it's a low rumble, almost like thunder. He rests a hand on Loki's head, stroking it through his hair. Loki leans into that touch, his eyes worryingly vague and vacant.

'Why would I do that? I have such plans for him.'

'I don't care what your plans are, he's not yours.'

He directs a blast at the throne, hoping his aim is good enough that he doesn't hit Loki. Though he's sure he'd survive a hit, but this one isn't meant for him. There's a moment of satisfaction when Thanos is forced to throw himself out of the way. It doesn't last, not when one of the Chitauri generals sends a retaliating blast at him so hard it not only knocks him out of the air it sends him flying half way back down the hall. 

Great. Now he has to fight his way back.

He can feel Thanos watching him, his expression thoughtful. Then his eyes gleam as if he's just had the best idea ever, and Tony has never been so afraid.

'You WANT him don't you? But he is mine, and he will never ever be yours.'

Then the monster is drawing Loki towards him, pulling him to his knees and between his legs.

'No!'

The cry doesn't come from Tony, he hasn't got the breath for it any more. He's surrounded on all sides, and whilst he's holding his own he knows it won't be long before he's out of power. For the first time, he sort of wishes he had real super powers.

The cry comes from Clint. He's managed to find a nook, high up on the wall from which he has a good view of the battle raging below him. He screams in outrage at the placid god, who's leaning in now to do his master's bidding. 

He remembers, far too vividly, how it felt to be under Loki's control. Remembers every single thing Loki made him do, every life he was made to take. Every second of working against his friends. It haunts his days and nights, if he lets it. He thought he hated Loki, maybe he did. Maybe he still does, but not enough to sit by and let this happen to him.

Not only that, but in remembering what Loki forced him to do it is impossible not to remember something else. That everything he had done before, would and has done since. It wasn't his choice in that instance because choice wasn't a thing he had. But it was only choice that had been removed. Everything he'd done, he'd done because it was what he knew. It was the way he knew how to serve. Seeing Loki debased and used like this, something in him snapped. 

Was this how Loki knew to serve? Had been made to serve. The idea repulsed him. There were some things you just didn't do, even to your worst enemies. This had to be stopped.

From here, he could see the dark vindictive glitter in Thanos' eyes. The methodical way that Loki's head moved, bobbing up and down. The sceptre that rested against the throne. Ah yes, that damned sceptre and it's sinister glowing crystal. He remembers Loki talking about crystals as power sources and he knows this one is different, has a darker purpose. Even so, it doesn't take a genius to guess that it is the thing which powers the staff.

Eyes narrowing, Clint takes aim. From this distance it's a tiny target, almost impossible. Almost, but not for Hawkeye. The sounds of battle fade away, a distraction he can't afford. His field of vision narrows until that damned crystal is the only thing he can see. Thanos is too busy gloating, too busy mocking Thor, Tony and the others to pay attention. Clint steadies his hand, finds that calm place which makes him so damn good at this, and releases.

What Clint couldn't see is the tears in Loki's eyes. He doesn't want this, but he knows it is all he is good for now. All that anyone could possibly want from a broken, miserable creature like himself. He can see the disgust in Thanos' eyes. He can feel his own revulsion at what he is doing. He just can't stop.

Which means he is on his knees, a monstrous cock in his mouth when something explodes right by him. When the sceptre he once held falls to the ground, the crystal forced out of it. Still in tact, not even chipped. Even so, the shock of it seems to be enough. 

He is here, back in this position of weakness. Back in the place Thanos has created for him. Foolish Thanos. Loki has turned this to his advantage once and now, now he will do it again. Thanos is still looking down at him, though his smug expression wavers for a second. Loki can feel his lips stretching in a smile, briefly. Then he bites down. Hard.

Thanos yells out in pain, but Loki doesn't have time to enjoy it. He spits the cock from his mouth and has soon as his lips are free of it, he leans lays his head in Thanos' lap, resting his cheek against the open box that still lays there. And he whispers a single word.

Thanos throws him from him.

'You fool! You will kill us all.'

'Oh no Thanos. Not even death wants me now. Remember.'

He jumps to his feet, grabbing the broken staff as he does so. It does not thrum with the power it once did, but it is still a weapon. The blade on the end is still sharp. He runs at Thanos, but finds himself thrown back once more. Looking back over his shoulder he can still his allies still fighting on, Thor amongst them.

Thor, future king of Asgard. They can't both die here. Cursing, he jumps to his feet and starts to run. 

HE hacks and slashes his way through the Chitauri, until suddenly he is fighting by Tony's side. 

'We need to go. Now.'

Tony's masked and armoured head nods once. Grabs Loki round the waist and launches them both into the air. 

Hulk and Thor clear a space large enough for them all to gather, whilst Cap holds the encroaching masses off. Natasha look around for Clint, her smile bright when he lands beside her and grabs for her hand. When they are all there, Loki reaches out for the power he felt earlier. The small mass of crystals sitting on their lonely pedestal.

He can hear Thanos shouting orders, but he doesn't care. There isn't time for him to salvage this situation. There is barely time for Loki to open a door for them to escape. But he does, just. As it closes behind them, they can feel the power of the magical bomb going off. Even standing together, holding each other up and in another place entirely, it throws them off their feet.

Loki tries to stand and can't. He has no strength left, it's all he can do to stay conscious. But he needs to stay conscious, he's their only way home. He is finds himself being lifted, in strong green arms. He can feel them crowding round him, holding onto him. 

He bends his will to holding onto THEM, and uses the last of his breath to give one last command.

'Walk.'


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters to go!

By the time they get back, all of the Avengers feel dead of their feet. Tony thinks he would have stopped being able to move hours ago – or is it days, hard to tell – if he hadn't been able to set his suit to autopilot. There's no sign of Banner, the Hulk is firmly in residence. He decides that on balance, that's a good thing. 

Whatever Loki is doing to enable them to travel like this, it's taking everything he has and Tony isn't sure he could walk under his own merit. If Thor looks a bit disgruntled that someone else is carrying his baby brother around he's also apparently tired enough not to complain about the fact. It's sort of sweet, the way Hulk is cradling Loki to him. Protective, which is not a side to the big guy he's ever expected to see.

He doesn't want to think about why it bothers him, but he knows his little glances are as full of jealousy as Thor's. Loki lifts his head, briefly. Closes the gateway with the barest flick of his wrist and promptly passes out. Fair enough. Tony is only surprised it didn't happen sooner.

That had been a traumatic experience, for all of them he suspects. Most definitely for Loki. He wants to ask Clint if Loki will remember everything, but he already knows the answer. Clint won't lie to him just to make him feel better. Normally he's grateful for the archer's often harsh honesty. Right now, he'd rather be comforted by a kind lie. 

He tries to follow when Hulk carries Loki from the room, but the green beast narrows his eyes at him in suspicion, clutching his prize close. Well, that's no good. Someone needs to check that the unconscious god is OK. On the plus side, Hulk seems to agree. He heads straight for Banner's lab, laying Loki down on the bed that still hasn't been packed away from last time.

Then it's the Hulk's turn to pass out, body shrinking back into Banner even as his eyes flutter shut. Well, Tony is no doctor but he determines that Loki needs rest more than anything else. As soon as he disposed of his suit he heads straight for the med lab. Showers, food and all the other things he'd like right now can wait. 

Thor is already there, of course. Hovering over the bed like a worried mother hen. Tony wishes he had the energy to mock him, but he doesn't. So he takes a seat on Loki's other side, and rests his head on the bed. Just for a minute. Or an hour. Or, as it turns out, all night.

When he wakes up again, Loki is still dead to the world. Everything else has changed though. Banner is chewing on his lip, fiddling with a beeping machine. He doesn't seem worried, so Tony relaxes and looks around. Thor's gone, but Pepper – of all people – has taken his place.

'Hey Tony.'

'Hey.'

'So, saved the world again, huh?'

'Seems that way.'

He's too bone tired to even make a joke of it. That can't be good. There's something different about Pepper, he can't place it straight away. His nose wrinkles in suspicion.

'You seem happy.'

'I am happy Tony. The world. Saved. Remember?'

'Right. But, you know. Really happy.'

'Well, the world was really saved. And I might be a wee bit tipsy.'

'Oh. Hey, partying without me? I'm not sure that's allowed.'

Not that he really minds. No doubt, those they left behind were as much in need of blowing off steam as those who had gone into the trenches. So to speak. Still, he'd seen Pepper drunk before and there was still something about the flush on her face...

'Hey! That's your post orgasm face!'

'Tony, you've never seen my post orgasm face.' 

But there's an impish look in her eyes that he recognises. With a grin, he cracks an old joke.

'I've seen twelve per cent of your post orgasm face.'

She laughs, and it's the happiest he's seen her in a long while. Happier than she was during their time together. He's glad. A glance at the comatose god is enough to kill his smile however. He'll be more than glad when Loki finally wakes up.

Eventually, he's forced to leave the bedside. Just long enough to grab a shower, change his clothes and hunt down some food. He stops by Fury's office on his way back, not at all surprised to find Fury, Hill and Steve in there.

'Hey. You guys not enjoying the party?'

'We will be. First, we're talking about what happens next.'

'What? Save the world and not even a day off? That's harsh.'

Steve shifted uncomfortably 'We were talking about Loki.'

Right. Super villain. Mass murderer. War criminal. Hero.

'Oh?'

'Yes. In light of his willing involvement and co-operation, incarceration seems a little ungrateful.'

'So?'

Fury smirks.

'I was thinking something along the lines of community service.'

Tony recognises it for what it really is. An invitation to join the team. A chance for the redemption they've apparently all decided Loki deserves. Cool. He wonders if he and Thor will have to draw straws to decide who gets to tell him. He hopes Loki will see the offer for what it is and accept it.

Thor is back by the bed when he arrives, chatting with Pepper. Jane is pretty much glued to his side. 

'Wow. Has Loki ever been this popular before?'

He sees the flash of hurt in Thor's eyes and almost regrets the comment. Almost. It shouldn't take saving the world for someone to find out he has friends. 

'We just wanted to see how he was getting on. And Pepper wished to speak to me.'

Curious. 'Oh?'

'Yeah. I just wanted to thank him. For getting me something I really wanted.'

Thor was buying Pepper presents? The two men exchanged puzzled looks, whilst Jane giggled.

'Speaking of which, I should go find Sif.'

As Pepper left, Tony ran through that conversation again in his head. Ah. Now everything made sense. Expect perhaps to Thor, who look more confused than ever.

'But I haven't even asked Sif yet what Pepper might like...'

'Don't worry about it, I think they've sorted it out between themselves.'


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working on the last chapter now. There will (finally) be some Tony/Loki love. Maybe even some smut. Need something heart warming to make it all better. Right?

Natasha toys with the idea of letting Clint have the space he's claimed he needs. She decides against it, he's been too quiet since they got back. Well, quieter than usual. She finds him snuggled up on a sofa, staring blankly at some old cartoons. Settling down beside him she leans a head against his shoulder.

'Hey.'

'Hey.'

'You doing OK there?'

'Yeah. Yeah, I really think I am.'

'Really?'

He nods, and smiles. It's weary, but not unhappy. Which is good, coming from Clint. 

'I... I think I'm over it. You know. The whole “Oh no, Loki stole my mind” thing. Not saying I like the guy. Just... Maybe I forgive him.'

'Well, that's nice. Maybe you should be telling someone else that though.'

He slides an arm around her. She's right, he should. But right now, all he wants is to sit down with his lover and watch some TV. Like any other normal, non world saving, couple would do. Normal is not something Clint has ever had and he knows the same is true for Nat. Who knows, the change of pace might do them both some good.

 

Back at the lab, Tony has been sitting staring at Loki for hours. Even Thor has left, no doubt doing something soppy and romantic with his beloved. Or wrestling with Vostagg, which apparently counts as fun on Asgard. He's been staring for so long he almost doesn't spot it straight away, when Loki's eye lids flicker.

'Bruce! Get over here. I think he's waking.'

'Thank God!'

'Thank God? I thought you said he'd be fine?'

'I did. But you know, nothings ever guaranteed and his physiology is really unusual.'

Loki is, indeed waking up. He does so slowly, wrinkling his nose in a manner which Tony refuses to find adorable. OK, refuses to admit he finds adorable. It's Tony's face which is the first thing Loki sees when he wakes up. Which is disconcerting, but does help to let him know where he is.

Not dead, which is nice. Not in thrall to Thanos, which is better. He looks away then. How can Tony stand to look him in the eyes like that, having seen first hand just what Loki has done? He remembers the feel of the floor beneath him as he crawled. Remembers the feel of Thanos in his mouth, against his tongue, sliding between his lips. He remembers everything, and it's enough to make him sick.

More than enough, it turns out. Bruce is there in a second, kidney shaped paper dish in hand. There's little enough in Loki's stomach to bring up however. He risks another look at Tony and it's clear the man has been sitting in that chair for a good long while. He can't help but wonder.

Bruce is hovering. It's annoying, actually. Loki isn't used to such concern and doesn't really know what to do with it. He's not in the best of places to find out right now. 

'Do you need anything Loki? Food? Painkillers?'

'Space, Dr Banner. Rest.'

Bruce gets the hint. He throws a look at Tony that's part curious, part concern. The unspoken message being 'I don't know what you to are up to, but tire out my patient and I'll smack you one.' Then he leaves them alone. 

'Why are you here Tony?'

Whatever Tony expected Loki to say, it wasn't that.

'I wanted to make sure you were alright. And that you didn't wake up alone.'

'Why? Even Thor would rather spend time with his friends than with me, and he thinks we're related.'

Tony only smiles. 'I am spending time with my friend.'

It hurts, but in a good way. Loki refuses to smile, so he lays his head back into his pillow and stares at the ceiling instead. His hand reaches for Tony's though, just resting against it. He waits for Tony to push it away. He doesn't.

The next time Loki wakes, news of his emergence from the land of nod seems to have spread. The room is now a colourful, crowded place. There are things everywhere. Boxes, which are revealed to contain chocolate, which gives Loki plenty of opportunity to re-discover his sweet tooth. Flowers. Balloons, though he is not certain what precisely they are for. And card. Folded bits of paper with ridiculous pictures and cloying messages inside.

He's not sure what to make of any of it. Healing on Asgard is rarely – never – accompanied by such cheerfulness. At least not in his experience. Apparently, mortals like to celebrate it. Though why exactly they should chose to celebrate HIS health remains a mystery. For a while at least. 

Steve is the first to say something, on behalf of his team. Ever the thoughtful leader.

'I just wanted to say thank you.'

'Thank you? For what?'

'Loki, you do remember what we did? What you did?'

Oh yes, Loki remembers exactly what he did. Every single second of it. It's not something he will ever forget, but he fails to see how his total and utter humiliation can be a thing to be thankful for.

'He's talking about how you saved the world. Setting off a bomb? Getting us all out alive without even a second to spare? Almost killing yourself in the process?'

Ah. It is good to have the every sarcastic Tony at this side to explain these things to him. If he notices that he is still holding onto the mortal's hand, he doesn't show it. At one point, Thor looks like he is going to comment but Natasha is quick to kick him into silence.

Later, when the crowd has dispersed, Clint sneaks in. Tony isn't sure what to make of his presence, but he thinks it's probably something personal. Still, he's reluctant to release Loki's hand and leave him to deal with it alone. So he pretends to be asleep instead. He's not sure anyone is fooled but it's surely the thought that counts.

Clint plays with his hands, winding his fingers in and out and around each other.

'I came to say sorry.'

'You are apologising? To me?'

'Yeah.'

They sit in uncomfortable silence for a bit.

'I... Look. What you did to me, it was awful. Like, one of the most awful things I've ever gone through.'

Loki drops his eyes. He knows. Oh, how he knows, now.

'But, the way I treated you. There's no excuse. So I'm sorry. OK?'

'OK.'

Tony squeezes his hand, gentle but firm. Loki takes the hint and glances up at Clint once more.

'I likewise regret my treatment of you.'

It's going to be a long time before they will count each other as friends, but it's a start.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I fail at smut. But 'and suddenly it was OK and they had sex' doesn't feel at all real. I did want to end this on a hopeful and positive note though. Which I've hopefully managed.
> 
> I suspect, at some point (though not necessarily soon) there will a follow up fic, looking at whether/how Loki manages to find a place with the Avengers, as well as his general recovery. And fun times with Tony. Can't forget those. Hope you have all enjoyed.
> 
> Now to go catch up with the comments! I have never had so many on anything I've written, so THANK YOU. <3

With Loki's power drained it takes days for him to recuperate, but finally he's well enough that Bruce is happy to let him leave the med lab. Loki's relief is tempered only by his uncertainty. His cell – former cell – is dark. Empty of the little things that had made it a sort of home, and locked down. He isn't sure exactly why he came to look at it, only he isn't sure now what is expected from him.

Fury has extended him an offer but he's not sure what to do with it. Not sure if he is ready to be on the same side as Thor, yet. He doesn't know what will happen if he says no however. Will it be back to the cell? Or to Asgard? 

There is another option, of course. He could simply leave. Flee, once more. The idea should be more tempting than it is. But he doesn't want to be alone again. He doesn't want to find allies like the Chitauri, and he's far from convinced that Thanos died in the epic blast. 

In his position, Loki would have an escape plan. He always does, and part of being able to anticipate Thanos' moves was from recognising their similarities. Though they had many differences too. There were some things even Loki wouldn't inflict on someone. 

He longs, suddenly, for a drink. Something to wash the taste from his mouth that can't really still be there. That must be in his mind, though no less real for that. Tony always has something to drink close to hand, so he goes to look for the mortal who calls him friend.

'Loki! Hey, how are you doing?'

Loki cast a wan smile in his direction. The man's obvious joy at seeing him still confuses him, still leaves him feeling uncertain. He could grow used to it however. He wants to grow used to it.

'You know, for a man who's just been declared an international hero you don't look happy.'

'I am not happy.'

His confession takes him by surprise, but it is true. He still doesn't know his place, he reflects bitterly. He is not the hero people calling him, not truly. He's still a monster, a creature to be despised. Tony doesn't look at him like that though, nor with the misguided love of Thor. Tony looks at him like he is just a man, with no great expectations for him to let down. It is refreshing.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

He doesn't want to talk, for once. Doesn't see the point. Tony knows what he is, what he's done. Has seen it for himself. Yet still, he looks at him like he's interesting. Like he's worth looking at. Loki wants to be worth looking at, more than anything. No, talking isn't what he came here for.

He leans into Tony, invading his personal space, though not in a bid to be threatening. His lips finds Tony's and draw him into a desperate kiss. For a moment Tony lets him, even starts to kiss back. Then he is pushing Loki away.

Loki stumbles, then flushes. It hurts, this rejection. More than anything has hurt since he found out who – what – he really was.

'Loki. God. What was that?'

Loki only shakes his head, turning away before Tony can see his tears.

'Hey! Don't go. Please. I... I need to know why you did that.'

'What does it matter why? You don't want me, and I can't blame you for that.'

Tony closes his eyes and tries to bite back an angry retort. Of course he wants Loki, has the man looked at himself lately? Even too thin – which he still is – and a little on the battered side, Loki is someone worth looking twice at. 

'That's not it. It's just... Loki, you don't have to do that. I'll like you anyway. OK?'

Loki stops dead.

'I didn't do it because I had to Tony Stark. I did it because I wanted to.'

'You wanted to? Why?'

Loki turns back to face him once more, stepping closer again though his steps are wary. He reaches out a hesitant hand and strokes it down Tony's cheek. When he speaks again, his voice is husky with need.

'You feel like home.'

Tony swallows. There is no way this can be a good idea. Loki's fucked up, impossible not to be after everything he's suffered. Plus, god of chaos and mischief and other problematic things. So, probably a dangerous guy to get involved with. Only, the way he's looking at Tony, an intoxicating mix of heat and need and dark promise. And Tony's always been a thrill seeker. Danger is part of the fun. 

Fuck it.

He pulls Loki into his arms, tangles one hand into his hair and slides his mouth over Loki's lips. Loki melts against him, and it's just amazing. He knows it might be a while before it's safe to take things any further than this, but if this is just a taste of what Loki has to offer he knows it will be worth the wait.

Loki is worth the wait, and right then and there he determines to show him that.


End file.
